Peter Kimura Whelan (itakunai) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2016-04-08 22:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2019 [04] april, max mendelson, pete whelan |
Who: Pete Whelan and Max Mendelson
Where: The Dog Park
What: Making up is hard to do.
When: April 1, 2019.
Like most of the Dog Park inhabitants, Max had whooped it up into the wee hours of the morning at the news of Teagan safely delivering her twins. Such a blessed event deserved to be celebrated and celebrate it Max certainly had but the new arrivals weren’t the only reason he had been out so late and partied so hard. First of all, he’d stayed out a bit longer than he normally would have to give Sasha and Bea some alone time. They’d all hung out earlier and had talked (Max had been elated to find out Bea was Dani’s roommate) but he’d left to give them some space. As nice and as cool as Bea seemed, however, with her brought Pete. Max would be lying to himself if his former friend being in such close proximity hadn’t influenced his behavior a bit. Cherry had popped by to say hi and gossip earlier in the evening, letting it slip that she couldn’t stay over Noa’s because the hot gyno was sleeping over. It made Max sad and angry to think of Pete at Noa’s and so he had drunk and cavorted to try and shake the weird, gnawing feeling in his gut whenever he mind went to the thought. Even though Vic had wanted Max to all but sleep in between Sasha and Bea to put the kibosh on any funny business, Max had entered the Airstream quietly at the end of his evening, gone to his room, shut the partition, and put on his headphones and played music to try and fall asleep. It could have been all the booze keeping him up, or all the dancing that couldn’t allow for him to drift off to sleep but Max knew it was because he was thinking about Pete. After a few hours of restless tossing and turning, Max eventually caught some winks that were fitful at best. Which is why when he was awakened by a loud knocking only a few hours later, Max was irked and more than a little hungover. Who the heck could possibly up and wanting to talk to him at this hour? It was Pete, of course, ready to collect Bea before they returned to UMCB. He'd risen relatively early, having not partaken of any of the festivities the night prior, wondering how exactly the two of them were going to get around breaking two rules: curfew and traveling in a group that numbered less than three. He'd also been trying to think through the whole situation with Max, too. He knew that they'd need to get a burner phone sooner or later, and Noa had mentioned that Max would be the best person to speak to about it. Considering how things had gone down between them, though, Pete had been putting off that conversation for a long time. Pete wasn't sure what kind of reception he'd receive from the man, but asking Bea to meet him elsewhere would've been cowardly. He wasn't a coward. So when the door opened he forced a smile, though it was clearly strained, and said, "Hey. Uh…" 'Good morning' sounded dumb, and so did any other polite greeting. So after a long moment of awkward silence, he added, "Can we talk?" Max, struck dumb at the sight of Pete standing in front of him, stood with his mouth agape for a few seconds before answering. “Uh...,” he said, rubbing his eyes and opening them again just to make sure Pete wasn’t a post-moonshine hallucination. “Yeah. Okay, sure. Let’s, uh...the picnic table is free.” Max gestured to the seating area between the RV and the Airstream, fully aware that he was still in the grimy concert t-shirt and basketball shorts he had slept in. He pulled up a bench and plopped down on it, crossing his arms in front of his chest as Pete took a seat across from him, mirroring Max as he crossed his own arms defensively. “It looked like Bea and Sash are still asleep,” Max said, inclining his head toward the Airstream but careful to look anywhere but at Pete. “And most people are still sleeping off their drink from all the celebrating last night so if you’re going yell at me, make sure it’s in a stage whisper. You may have brought two of the officers’ kids into the world but even big dudes in leather get hangovers and aren’t afraid to let you know all about it if you’re being too loud for their throbbing heads, ya feel?” "Last thing I need is more Hellhounds yelling at me," Pete said before he could help it, regretting it right away. He pursed his lips and shook his head, obviously pushing aside thoughts he doesn't want to dwell on, before he pulled his attention back to Max with obvious effort. "I don't personally feel like yelling either, but." He shrugged, then uncrossed his arms to lean his elbows on the top of the picnic table. "If you want to, go ahead. Uh, quietly, considering what you just said, but yeah." Another shrug. "It's cool." Max blinked stupidly at Pete. How he felt about Pete was so mixed up with other things (his loyalty to Vic and the Hellhounds, his love for Dani, his desire for everyone at the Dog Park to be safe and healthy, the death of his mother, Pete’s sleeping over at Noa’s when he couldn’t even look Max in the eye) that it was hard to pinpoint the exact emotion he was feeling. He was angry, certainly, and so darn sad. But mostly he just missed his friend. “I don’t want to yell at you,” he said quietly, meeting Pete’s eyes before quickly turning away. His body language relaxed slightly. His arms were no longer the armor he wore to protect himself from Pete’s vitriol. Instead, Max’s burly arms hugged himself to make up for the embrace he longed for but didn’t feel like he deserved. “I do have a question, though,” Max asked tentatively. He threaded his shirtsleeve through his middle and forefinger; a telltale sign of his nervousness. Pete lifted his gaze from the worn tabletop, looking hopefully across at Max. “Did you really wear a women’s leather jacket last time you visited the Dog Park?” He looked up from his busy fingers at his sleeve, a small smile playing on his lips. It’s not the question Max wants to ask or the one that he needs answered but it’s what slipped out. He’s so hard up for the playful give and take of their old friendship that he forgets himself. "I, uh." Pete gave a small shrug, an almost-embarrassed expression on his face as he remembered the jacket Lita had loaned him. "Yeah. She said the outfit I was gonna wear here would've made me stand out too much, but I didn't have a jacket to wear and, you know. It was kinda chilly when we came out here." He'd thought he'd been pretty slick about it, too, but apparently word had spread regardless. Still, it was pretty nice to be talking to Max about something else besides personal betrayal and lying to the cops for one another. It relaxed him, too, a fact that was obvious in his posture. "Did my intern have sex with your friend last night?" Max let out a little laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, I don’t know?” Max answered. “I know that last time they were hanging out nothing happened. This time, his dad, Vic, wanted me to keep an eye on him but I wasn’t about to cramp his style. Sasha, that’s my roomie’s name, is more like a brother than a friend so I left them to their own devices. I’ve known him since before I came to Austin, since we were both kids really, and he’s a good guy…he’ll treat her right, whatever it is they’re up to.” Talking about Sasha and Bea makes Max think about Pete sleeping over at Noa’s and irks him for some reason. Like, if he wasn’t a stupid 30 year old virgin he would be able to understand why it was so easy for Pete to get over Noa’s Hellhound involvement but not his own. But this isn’t about Pete and Noa, it’s about him and Pete. They’re talking civilly, almost normally and Max is savoring it for as long as he can. “Do you think you guys, you and Bea and the lady doc, are going to keep at this?” Max asked. Pete nodded; he and Lita haven't discussed the future of this venture in specifics, but both of them know that it'll continue for as long as they can do so safely. "Yeah. I mean, if we can figure out how to keep it going, we'll keep it going. Just figuring out the logistics of it and everything, that's what's tricky." Max is glad that the Dog Park will have more access to health care; heck, it was what he’d wanted since he’d agreed to figure out the supply truck schedules way back when. But more than that, it meant Pete would be around more. Maybe if he was inundated with the MC lifestyle, Pete might be more amenable to rekindling their friendship if he knew where Max was coming from. “You’re doing so much good here,” Max said earnestly. He shuddered to think what would have happened to all the DP residents that got caught up in the bomb blast all those months ago without Pete and Dr. Singh’s assistance, or what could have happened to Teagan and the babies. Max felt like he had to impress how important Pete was to this place and to its people. Ostensibly he was talking about everyone at camp but he knew, and maybe Pete did too, that he was speaking from his own heart. “They need you, you know. More than you know.” "Yeah," Pete said again, pursing his lips a little as he tried to wrap his head around the conundrum he was in. "I know." His eyes dropped down to the table as his thoughts grew more entangled, trying to figure out what he was even feeling these days about the Dog Park. He still couldn't stomach all they did around Austin, and he still couldn't condone what Max had done to get them the supplies they had -- and how many people had been injured or killed in the name of other people's health and safety -- but it was over now, wasn't it? At least there was that. "This is the way it should've been," Pete said then, unable to help himself, his eyes still on the tabletop. His voice hadn't raised at all, but the conflict he felt was clear in his tone. "If they needed help it should've been -- I don't know how it would've looked, but something where people didn't have to die for it. I don't know why that always has to be the default over here. I guess I just -- I wish you would've told me you knew these people and that they didn't have any -- Maybe I would've helped earlier." Max hung his head and raked his hands through his hair. The thought that he could have salvaged his and Pete’s friendship with a few changes in his behavior haunted him almost as much as the lives that could have been saved. It’s a selfish, ugly thought but that doesn’t make it any less true. “There’s so much I wish I had done differently,” Max said tremulously, pulling back to look at Pete. He doesn’t bother to hide his watery eyes; he’s ashamed of a lot of things but not of that. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time Pete’s seen him cry but it might be the last. “So much. I only hoped...I never wanted…,” Max stopped. There were no excuses; he had blood on his hands. After a moment’s silence, he started again. “I know what I’ve done...I know what sort of person I am.” Max reached out before he could stop himself, lightly touching Pete’s forearm. Pete, in turn, looked sharply down at the contact, frowning slightly as he tried to sort through everything Max was saying. Realizing he might have stepped over a line, Max moved his hand back. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. Max cleared his throat, trying to swallow the lump that had collected there. “If it will make it easier for you to be here, I’ll try and make myself scarce. I’ll stay out of your way. Whatever you want, just name it.” "You don't have to do that." Pete's voice sounded thick to his ears, too, full of emotions and feelings he hadn't realized. He'd spent so much time over the last few months wallowing in anger and betrayal; he'd almost forgotten how much he actually missed his friend. "Make yourself scarce, I mean. It wasn't because of just you that things were fucked up." Pete didn't think he could ever overlook the deaths and injuries that had happened before the Hellhounds had stopped targeting the resource trucks with such ferocity, but being mad at Max for it -- instead of the people who'd actively hurt others based on his intel -- wasn't doing anything but making him exhausted and bitter. He met Max's gaze then and cleared his throat, furrowing his brow as he tried to think of just how to say what he felt. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have -- the situation is so freaking nuanced, and I just took it out on you. That wasn't cool." He paused, offering Max a small smile that just bordered on hopeful, then added, "We can just kind of figure it out as it goes, okay?" After all, things couldn't go back to the way it had been before, but who knew what the future would bring? Max had to let it sink in before he responded. Pete didn’t hate him? He might want to see him again? That they could be friends one day? When Max was able to finally wrap his mind around the idea that Pete could be a part of his life again, he grinned wide; tears completely gone. “Yeah,” Max said, unable to keep himself from beaming. “Yeah, that sounds awesome, dude. I’d like that. That would be awesome.” Thinking of how lame and butthurt he felt earlier about Pete staying over at Noa’s, Max was struck with an idea. “Maybe, uh, we could all hang out sometime,” Max suggested, super casually; or, as casually as his incredible happiness at Pete’s talking to him could allow. “Like, you, me, Sasha, Bea, Noa. You know I gave her a shirtless piggy-back once." Pete looked sharply up at Max, though the look on his face was one of obvious amusement, not irritation. "You did what?" "I was shirtless, not her,” Max added quickly, as if it wasn’t obvious there was no possible way it could be the other way around. “But,” he said, clearing his throat. “I understand it won’t happen overnight. Finding our footing again is totally worth the wait. Like you said, we can figure it out as we go along.” "Yeah, we can do that. Next time, maybe." Pete couldn't fully imagine a scene in the future such as Max had described, but he was more willing to try it now. He nodded as though to cement this shift in his thinking, a gesture that was more for himself than the other man, then pushed himself up from the picnic table. It was getting a little late, after all, and he and Bea needed to be back at UMCB before anyone noticed they'd even left in the first place. "I guess I'll be seeing you around," he added, looking back at Max one last time before he turned to go over to the Airstream and collect Bea. |